torn down wall

averagetaynara  asked:

Hi! So @tinkdw said you also believe that s13 may be the last season of spn. Was just wondering, maybe you wrote some post about it somewhere? I'll be very interested in reading it ☺️

Hello, my lovely - and I am so very sorry for the late reply! I have actually not written a post about my brewing conviction that SPN is ready to move into Wrapping It Up territory. So here are my thoughts! :)

Tink is indeed right: I have believed for quite some time now that S13 will most likely be the final season. I’ve thought this because of how the narrative is beginning to tie back to the beginning, through callbacks and a very clear push towards - what I firmly believe - will be a positive endgame.

Narratively there are three acts - or parts - to a story. There can be five, or seven, or however many goddamn acts the writer deems fit for the story they want to tell, but the Alpha and the Omega - Aristotle - divided his story structure into three distinctive parts: the Beginning, the Middle, the End

Simple enough. 

So here are my personally cobbled together Acts Specifics:

  • Act One sets up all the story elements that will be integral to the narrative.
  • Act Two takes these story elements to further explore, deepen and evolve the narrative.
  • Act Three reveals the hidden truths of the chosen story elements and delivers on the promise of the premise by answering the thematic question posed in Act One and picked up on with every new Story Beat throughout the narrative.

So, Act Three gives us the juicy bits:

  • it’s where the bigger picture is finally beginning to reveal itself
  • it’s where the good storyteller will avoid bringing in any new elements that will sincerely jar with what has come before, and instead use all the foreshadowing set up in Act One and furthered in Act Two to provide a Twist that feels unexpected, and yet unavoidable 
  • The Twist is what sets off the narrative’s movement into Act Three and pushes the momentum of the Plot and Character Arcs towards Climax. (yes, that’s what it’s called) (don’t look at me like that) (or do) (I kinda like it) (*flirty*) (moving on)

To my mind, Act Three of the SPN narrative began with 11x01, because S11 focused so entirely on our Protagonist - that would be Dean - taking huge, huge steps towards his endgame by realising he’s in love with Cas.

This undeniable love is what has facilitated Dean’s character growth since S4, so for him to actually understand his own emotions and being forced to admit them to himself is monumentally important for him reaching his endgame.

Reaching his endgame - self-worth through self-acceptance - will reward him with a long and happy life with the man he loves. Just to be clear.

And, to my mind, admitting his emotions to himself has informed his attitude and actions throughout S12, so the growth spurt of S11 was not for nothing and they kept building on it, giving us tension and confusion and a mixtape.

The Twist that S11 offered us, then, was introducing Amara into the narrative. 

Originally posted by casclaire

  • Amara is not something new thrown in last minute
  • She is an Act Three Standard as she is in fact a Callback
  • She is a Callback to all the women who came before her
  • She is what Dean before Cas might actually have been seduced by
  • She is everything Dean has always convinced himself he should want, everything any average viewer would assume he does want
  • But Dean’s love for Cas is true love and it blocks every last attempt from Amara to control Dean’s heart

Amara’s first purpose in the narrative is to underline Dean’s love for Cas for the sake of us, the audience.

  • She is continually a Mirror Opposite for Cas throughout the season
  • This places her firmly in the Not What Dean Wants At All Ever Box 
  • As Cas occupies his Everything I Could Ever Want and Need Box
  • Amara is placed in her box in every single scene she shares with Dean 
  • Yes, even that kiss between them, because it is so very clearly not what Dean wants, which is put in dialogue twice: with Casifer and with Sam

Amara’s second purpose in the narrative is to highlight Dean’s love for Cas in order for Dean to admit to himself how he feels.

  • Amara tells Dean they are bonded, tying herself inexorably to Cas’ statement of how he and Dean share a profound bond 
  • Amara states that she and Dean were meant for each other, intruding on his Free Will as she tries to make him understand there’s nothing he can do and he should just give in
  • But Dean’s heart is completely filled up with Cas, and Amara’s Mirror Opposite is only working to make him more and more aware of this
  • Because Cas is all Dean cares about, worries about, truly wants
  • Amara’s statements are true, just not when applied to her: they can only be applied to Cas
  • With one significant difference: Dean would choose Cas in a heart beat, of his own Free Will, no coercion, no tricks, no power plays needed
  • And Dean slowly comes to realise this during the seasonal narrative

Originally posted by faramaiofnerdwoodforest

(Chuck’s face. Chuck’s face. Chuck’s goddamn face! *shipper*)

Dean realising he’s actually in love with Cas is a Big Push Forward for our Protagonist, and as our Protagonist’s Journey moves forward, so does the narrative itself, because without the Journey, the narrative flounders.

So then, that’s my reason for believing we’re in the final stretch here: the journey for every main character is coming to its head. It’s also my reason for not believing they’ll want to drag this narrative out for a whole lotta more seasons.

I find it hard to believe they’d even want to drag it out for two more whole seasons, especially after how S12 ended with every character leaping and bounding forward in their character growth:

  • Dean’s walls torn down (or blown to rubble via grenade launcher)
  • The brodependency crumbling
  • Sam stepping into his shiny Leader of MoL boots
  • Cas’ death, that simply must be setting him up for a much needed rebirth

All of the main character arcs aren’t moving at glacier pace anymore, they are fucking snowballing towards endgame.

Originally posted by princesscas

I can understand that they’d want to go for that 300th episode, however.

After JiB8 and the J2 panel, where both Jared and Jensen spoke positively about, possibly, doing a shorter season (though airily and not really in reference to a final season at all) I’m musing over whether this might be what they’re planning. That episode 300 will be their last. 

Jensen mentioned during an on-set interview that they don’t know how long they’ll go for, that they have the studio and network fully behind them, and that, as long as there is a good story to tell, they’re all willing to stay with it. This comment made me feel, more than ever, that they are all invested in this narrative and they know that it’s coming full circle.

They are closing the narrative, they are bringing it home, they are pushing it towards that climactic moment, when the characters have learned all their lessons, when the plot line is ready to reflect this, and the narrative can be tied up in a satisfactory and emotionally fulfilling way.

So even if S13 isn’t the absolute last, I do wonder if we’ll actually get a full S14.

But, hey, these writers are brilliant at what they do. I am in jaw-drop awe of how they have built the Destiel love story for going on 10 seasons now, so I am absolutely certain that if they wanted to go for longer than episode 300, they are all more than capable of delivering something fucking amazing. 

And let’s not despair if SPN is actually ending!! Not only will there be Wayward Daughters, I’ve no doubt! The SPN Family will continue and it will flourish! And we’ll have over a decade’s worth of glorious television to watch and watch again and then watch with friends and coerced family and slowly we can brainwash our work colleagues into our obsession until, finally - world domination. All the domination, peeps.

And rainbows. Always rainbows.

my baby and i we go slow, ereri, 708 words.

There are parts of Levi only he knows. It’s selfish, greedy even, but he wants them all to himself, locked away in his heart.

[Levi and Eren find some time in a closet after an expedition.]

(fluff, they make out in a closet basically and it’s sappy)

read on ao3 / under the cut

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Dean has torn down some walls, but the walls are part of what helps him survive. They're a defense mechanism; he uses it to give him strength and courage. Some of it is good some isn't, but is what makes Dean Dean.

yesthatwas-sarcasm-deactivated2  asked:

Could I get a ship with Sirius x Hufflepuff Reader. Your writing is really good BTW. Thanks

15 43 45 with sirius? love you work btw

I’m assuming you meant for me to write you a fic with Sirius and a Hufflepuff reader as opposed to writing an actual ship for you (you’d describe yourself and I ‘ship’ you with someone)…? anyhoo, let me know. Also, yes I did combine two requests and yes I did plant two easter eggs in here. If you spot them, let me know, there may be a prize involved ;)) 

15. “I miss you, but then I remember what an asshole you are and the feeling fades.”, 43. “I trusted you,” and 45. “Remember that time I thought you were stalking me?”

Sirius Black was following you. You could feel it, his presence lurking like a shadow, as you ambled down the path toward Hogsmeade with your friends. You tried to ignore the feeling, to throw yourself into the ambient glow of the warm company that surrounded you, but Sirius Black is nothing if not stubborn and the feeling of his eyes boring holes into your soul pestered you for the entire trip.

(And maybe you never wanted him to leave you in the first place.)

“There is no way that The Banshee’s cover of ‘Bewitch my Heart’ is better than the original, isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

Matt Nelson’s voice yanked you from your thoughts, pulling you back into your body once again.

“Erm…yeah. The originals are always better…” you mumbled. Matt beamed triumphantly while your best friend, Claire Page, scowled at you.

“Well, there you have it,” Matt grinned, causing Claire to roll her eyes.

“You have both been disowned. I’m leaving to mingle with people who have better taste…”

“You’re going to be a lonely person, then!” Matt called out to her as she left, to which she flipped the bird, causing you both to chuckle.

A contented silence followed in the wake of Claire’s abrupt departure, which you filled with thoughts of your ex. You had thrown a glance over your shoulder before, spotting Sirius in the distance, and he made no show of hiding. Instead, a smirk had sliced those deliciously soft lips, sparking electricity that scuttled down your spine. That hair and those eyes and those sinfully delicious lips–

“How you holding up?” Matt asked, once again tearing you from your thoughts. You glanced at him and flashed him a charming smile.

“Fine, thanks.”

Matt nodded. “That’s not entirely true, is it?”

You gave him a shrewd stare. Matt and you had a…complicated past. As in, he had feelings you did not reciprocate, so when you started dating Sirius, Matt was passive aggressive and filled with disdain. But, like the true Hufflepuff that he is, he abandoned those feelings for your happiness. He hasn’t said it yet, but his voice whispers ‘I told you so’ in your ears.

“I am really not in the mood for a deep and meaningful right now,” you drawled.

“And I would never expect that from you,” Matt adds, hastily, “I just…I want you to know that you can talk to me.”

You nod, sending him a soft smile. “Thank you, Matt.”

Matt matches your smile, and it’s an amicable tug of his lips that deepens his dimples. It’s adorable, and you find yourself wondering how you can’t find it in you to give this boy the love he deserves. Here he is, offering his bleeding heart on his sleeve, yet you’re sweeping glimpses at the past, hoping for a love that broke you.

Your fingers graze against his gloved ones, testing for a reaction. There is none. No electricity, no fireworks, not even a tickle of warmth. There is not one cell in you that does not belong to Sirius Black, and you loathe the boy that sparkles silver and is crowned with black.

(But you mostly love him)

When you arrive at Hogsmeade, Claire circles back to you, and the three of you move from store to store. The feeling of Sirius stalking you, however, does not leave you, and you decide to confront him, fed up with his creepy antics.

“I’m going to hang back here for a while,” you announce to Matt and Claire before they can leave the Three Broomsticks.

“Alight, do you want one of us to stay with you?” Matt asks, concern leaking into his tone, but you shake your head at his offer, sending him a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be fine.”

With a nod and smile, Matt leaves, Claire following closely. Once they’re out into the street, you lean back on your chair and turn your head slightly so that you’re speaking over your shoulder.

Remember that time I thought you were stalking me?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, when we first met,” Sirius responds, not bothering to turn in his chair to speak directly to you, “You confronted me.”  

“Did I mention that you’re a sloppy stalker?”

“Many times on many occasions.”

“Well why didn’t you take the hint?” You snip, now turning around to face him, “Stalking someone is actually fucking creepy. I’ve had enough.”

Sirius barks a laugh, spinning in his seat. Your faces are dangerously close, so close you can trace the constellations in his eyes.

“Are you really that vain? I am not stalking you!”

“Yes! You are! You’ve followed me to every single store.”

“It’s not my fault my friends like all the same stores as you!”

“They weren’t there!”

“Yes, they were!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and force a sigh from your lips. Anger ripples through your veins. “You know, sometimes, I miss you, but then I remember what an asshole you are and the feeling fades.

A spiteful chuckle rumbles on Sirius lips, lacking the warmth of genuine amusement. “Sometimes, I forget how charming you truly are.”

“Look, I don’t care if you’re stalking me or not. Just…keep away from me. I trusted you once upon a time, and I’m not making that same mistake again.”

With that, you sprung from your seat and stormed out of the pub, your blood boiling with lust and contempt. How was it that Sirius managed to evoke such contradictory emotions inside of you? How can someone love and hate an individual at one? You want to kiss him and punch him in the face with a chair at the same time.  

You had no idea where you were going, but you knew you had to put some distance between you and Sirius. The growing void that stretched between the two of you was filled with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t, rotting away like corpses at the bottom of a pit. It’s only when Sirius’ voice shatters your racing thoughts that you realize he’s been tearing after you, and what he says roots you to the snow-clad ground.

“You seem to have forgotten that I trusted you, too.”

Sirius’ words strike you like a fork of lightning. You spin around and march back up to him, eyes fierce and voice sharp.

“And what did I do to break that trust? Hm? Tell me Sirius!”

Sirius pursed his lips and ground his jaw, and it’s all sharp edges and chiseled lines and you have to fight the urge to spill your lips over his because he’s as destructive as a forest fire but he’s so damn beautiful…

“You left.” He breathes, and its so simple and so complicated, you have to blink and let it sink in.

“I…” you begin, but no words follow, they’re all tangled in a knot in your throat.

“You left and you ran back to him and you left me alone, when I needed you most…”

It takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts and string them together, one by one. You had never expected something so sincere from Sirius, even though he had never lied to you in your life. Your gaze finally lands on him, and now, you can see past his barriers, how he’s torn down his walls.  

Standing before you is Sirius Black, completely unmasked. Naked eyes, naked soul. For the first time, you notice every line on his elegantly handsome face, spelling out the same pain that chewed a large hole in your chest.

“I thought you wanted me to go…” you whisper, and you sound small and childish.

“Never,” he mumbles, “How could you think that?”

“You made it pretty clear when you told me to leave and never return…” you mutter, bitterly.

“I…I never meant that…” Sirius stammered, shaking his head, “Surely, you must realize by now that people say things they don’t mean when they’re angry…”

“Why didn’t you talk to me, then? Why didn’t you try to explain?”

“I thought you wanted to be left alone…” Sirius reveals, his voice soft and sweet. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth sink into your skin, and electricity crackles in your veins, fireworks burst behind closed eyes.

Leaning forward slowly, you close the distance between the two of you with a passionate kiss that burns all your doubt and turns your fears to ash. He’s gentle and unassuming, lips moving softly against yours, and you moan against his lips, the scent of his cologne intoxicating you. His arms wrap around you instinctively, collecting you like a beautiful mess, while your hands rake through his hair, tugging gently on the soft strands, relishing in the way it melts through your fingers like chocolate.  

When you break apart, and your eyes flutter open, you find two large, grey eyes gazing back, drinking you in like a dying man.

“Never,” you breathe against his lips, “I never want to be without you again…”

send me mcprompts with a side of large fries

Désolé Mon Amour

Bonjour Mon Amour Pt.2

Barry X Reader

Word Count: 1,058

Warnings: none

Part 1

“I still cannot believe you’re going on a date with this boy.” You sighed, closing your eyes to take a breath. You’d been getting ready for an hour now and still couldn’t believe you were actually going.

“Neither can I.” You admitted “I mean, I left the country for two years and learned French. Yet I can’t say no to the guy that broke my heart, in either language.”

“Oh honey.” Camille laughed “You’ve got it bad.”

“Maybe this date will tank and I’ll be over him for good.” You offered.

“Or maybe you’ll spend the night.” You stuck your tongue out at her to which she laughed.

“Well I have some designs to review, but I want you to call me as soon as it’s over.”

“You got it.” You agreed, applying the finishing touches to your hair.

“Au revoir love.”

You couldn’t help the nerves that had settled in your stomach. The amount of times you’d changed outfits was about six too many. Eventually you’d chosen an off-shoulder high low dress with matching heels and a small black clutch. You felt pretty which calmed about two percent of the butterflies in your stomach.

When your phone buzzed you had to take a deep breath before looking.

Allen: I’m downstairs :)

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in your dress. Tonight would be fine, you would be fine and nothing would come of it. At the most, you thought, you were willing to be his friend. With this thought in mind you grabbed your bag and a jacket and headed down.

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Writing Prompts and Ideas

  1. “Things change. People Change.”
  2. “It’s only homicide if you get caught.”
  3. “Nothing can possibly go wrong.”
  4. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you!”
  5. “I love it when you sing.”
  6. “You know, the saddest thing is that it’s never your enemies that betray you.”
  7. “I loved you and you used me!”
  8. “For once in my life I though I could be happy.”
  9. “I hate you! I hate that after everything you did to me I still love you! You broke me and I still love you!”
  10. “My beautiful Queen.”
  11. “Wanna stay in bed all day?”
  12. “Stargazing is more romantic that it sounds.”
  13. “I’m just letting you know that your never getting this shirt back.”
  14. “I’m a monster, can’t you see?”
  15. “It’s easier to be feared that loved.”
  16. “There are some things that just can’t be fixed.”
  17. “It’s creepy how sweet and innocent you can look.”
  18. “You can’t stay in bed all day, it’s unhealthy.”
  19. “Sometimes I wanna watch the world burn, other times I can settle for a small ice age.”
  20. “We already have three dogs, four is where I put my foot down.”
  21. “You said you loved me!”
  22. “Happily ever after is a fucking lie.”
  23. “You broke my heart, so I got rid of it. No one can hurt me now.”
  24. “You torn down every wall i built and then you left me! You destroyed me! You can’t just waltz back in and pretend everything is fine!”
  25. “Did it every occur to you I’m actually not a bad person”
  26. “It’s unsettling when you sing that song, please stop.”
  27. “Should I dye my hair purple or blue? What about both?”
  28. “Marry me.”
  29. “You tried to suffocate me with a stuffed whale when we were six.”
  30. “Life is a dick.”
  31. “For someone who plays a Disney princess you sure do swear a lot.”
  32. “Join me in my blanket fort. We can watch Disney movies and eat junk food.”
  33. “Why does everyone I love leave me? What’s wrong with me?”
  34. “I’m too sober for this.”
  35. “You never loved me did you?”
Bellamy in Jasper’s Empire (4x08)

We all know the scene. Bellamy and Jasper return to Arkadia, there’s a party going on up the ramp, and at the other side are some people still mourning the people lost in the black rain. Jasper goes up the ramp, leaving Bellamy at the crossroads, and then a lone blonde Clarke look-a-like emerges to convince Bellamy to dance. 

Bellamy and Bree are the two we’re supposed to be focused on in this scene, right? That’s what most would have you believe. I mean the Clarkeness of how they’ve done Bree up can’t be denied, but I think people have focused too much on this because of Bellarke when the scene itself is more about the Bellamy/Jasper relationship continued over from their scene earlier in the episode…and also a bit about the two on their own

Why do I think this?

Well, for me it has to do with the music playing in the background. It’s titled Empire and is by an artist WVM. It’s mainly the music to the song that we hear during the scene, but there are four moments in the scene where this isn’t so. Four lines of the song that are completely distinguishable, almost as if they wanted us to actually hear them compared to the other parts.

The first of these lines are actually the first lines of the song.

I tore down the walls that showed me heaven

We hear these as we see Jasper and Bellamy walk into Arkadia and Jasper sees that the party has already gotten started. Now, even though he is coming in as it’s already gotten underway Jasper is 100% the person who masterminded this party. He’s all smiles as they enter where as Bellamy has no idea what is going on. So, how does this tie into the lyrics? Well, let’s look at the contrast in the two sides of the room. First we have the party. In a way I feel like the party is supposed to be the heaven mentioned in the song. People are smiling, having fun….you might even say there is rejoicing. Heaven is supposed to be a place where there is no more sorrow, and while it might only last for this night, this party is providing just that for the people at it. Compare this to the other side of the room where people are mourning and in pain, which I suppose in a way would make that side of the room hell. 

There’s also the first part of the song ‘I tore down the walls’ Because of being privy to certain information before the others, Jasper is the first to adopt the ‘live for the day’ type of mentality. Whether or not you want to see it as a good thing, for the most part this season Jasper has been all about living out the remainder of the days doing things that you love and will make you happy. Some see this as destructive, but honestly I’ve always had a different take on it, and the previous scene in the forest solidified this for me. Jasper hasn’t given up on surviving because he wants to die. He’s living life with everything he has, and he wants others to do the same. He’s the first to really accept that maybe they won’t survive, and there is nothing wrong with that. He’s torn down the walls of fear of what’s to come to be able to see and live in the heaven that is around him. I also think you can consider Jasper being able to sort of get through to Bellamy out in the forest as him tearing down those walls Bellamy had built up, slowly allowing him to see the ‘heaven’ around him as well.

my love for you will always stay

This is the next distinguishable line from the song. It comes after Bellamy expresses not being sure if he wants to/should go to the party, and Jasper tells him that everyone is going to die and he has a choice in how he goes out. “The ending’s the same, but who says the journey has to suck?” Jasper doesn’t force Bellamy up the ramp to the party, in fact he doesn’t even hardcore try to pressure him into joining. He leaves Bellamy to make this decision all on his own. I think the important thing about this in regards to the lyrics is that no matter what Bellamy chooses to do he is always going to be someone that is important to Jasper. The things he does is not going to change this. Even Mt. Weather didn’t change this. I know some people could argue this, but as much as Jasper lashed out at Bellamy in season 3 because of it, I never thought that Jasper hated Bellamy (or even Monty and Clarke) in a way that meant he no longer loved/cared about him. I think so many people don’t recognize that you can hate someone (or something they did) while still ultimately loving them.

welcome to my empire

We have the whole ‘dance with me’ ‘I don’t dance’ scene. Now, before I get to this moment with the above lyrics, I do want to point out that Bellamy looks up to the party and Jasper before allowing Bree to guide him up the ramp. The fact that it’s after this moment just goes to show how Jasper has gotten through to him in a way that no one else has been able to so far.  

Now as Bellamy (and Bree) walk up the ramp we hear ‘welcome to’ and as the camera moves to show Jasper turning to greet them it goes to ‘my empire.’ This party, this whole way of thinking of the apocalypse is, in fact, Jasper’s empire. In Jasper’s empire you don’t survive, you live, and you live with every ounce of your being. Bellamy makes the decision here to join Jasper in living. He’s allowing himself to take the burden of saving the world off his shoulders, even if it’s only for a little while…now if only Bellamy would take the backpack off his shoulders…YOU’RE AT A PARTY, BELLAMY!!!!

the seeds of your destruction

This is the continuation of the previous line from the song. It’s heard after Jasper hands Bellamy a drink, and as they cheers and drink it down. Now, I know there are plenty of people out there who would take this as a negative thing…mainly people who hate Jasper and will try to twist everything he does into a negative thing, but y’know what? Fuck those people. This moment isn’t about the destruction of Bellamy in a negative way, no it’s the destruction of Bellamy’s way of thinking that he has to keep punishing himself for the things that he did and the people he couldn’t save. It isn’t something that is going to be an automatic 180 change, but Jasper has provided him the seeds of change.

@junebugninja @the-ships-to-rule-them-all @ginalou16 @abazethe100 @ravensluna @bellamypotter @raincityruckus @sherlockvowsontheriverstyx @thelovelylights @murphystartedthefire @insufficient-earth-skills @forgivenessishardforus @falafel14 @head-and-heart 


Chapter Three → “Red”

Summary: You were held captive by Hydra for years and had only just escaped when the Avengers find you. You’re beyond terrified of everyone and everything around you, but the thing the terrifies you the most is yourself. The things you can do with your “abilities” are beyond what anyone could possibly imagine. 

Chapter 1    Chapter 2 

Originally posted by elizabefholsen

@i-love-bucky-barnes @nopevilleluas @winter–plum @poe-also-bucky @serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes @life-is-fuucked @emilyinbuffalo @buckybarnesisalittleshit @theboldandthebootyful @dr121413 @buckysquad @smartashes @notsoprettykitty @romxnovas @tjhammomd @linsteadandchicagopdarelife @justareader @whatsbetterthanfantasy @intenselyupset @nikkitia7 @thenightmarebeforebucky

You paced the length of your fishbowl, fingers running along the glass walls. Steve had left you alone for a bit, letting you think things over and calm yourself down. The inside of your cheek was chewed raw and you tasted blood.

“I know you’re confused and scared right now, and it’s hard for you to trust anyone, but you gotta take that chance with me.” Steve had told you before he left.

Could you trust Steve? Your hands clenched into fists, chest tightening.

‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ You asked yourself, trying to sound hopeful.

‘They could kill you, torture you, use you.’ Your mind snarled and you felt tears build in your eyes.

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I find it interesting how death preserves reputations. Take, for example, John F. Kennedy. His death came too early for many; and it’s my belief that preserved his legacy as the man who wanted to bring us to the moon, the dreamer who wanted the Wall torn down – the idealistic, noble goals that we love to ponder. I wonder what may have happened later in his presidency, had he not been assassinated, that could’ve changed that legacy.

It is the same case with a man like Erwin Rommel. He was a member of the Nazi Party, but he is/was known as a noble man due to the fact he didn’t mistreat prisoners of war and refused to execute German French Foreign Legion members. In fact, I believe the fact he was served a suicide pill by Hitler is the biggest reason his legacy was preserved to be known today – crimes Rommel may have committed in North Africa are currently unknown or have only just begun to be researched; any he may have committed had he stayed alive were stopped prematurely. Anybody who’s obituary reads “served a suicide pill by Adolf Hitler” looks good in the eyes of the world, simply because of the fact Hitler was the one who killed him.

Compare this with Bernard Law Montgomery – when Monty won Egypt for North Africa, he was revered by his men for having succeeded when his predecessors had failed; for trying to keep them alive. But because of his well known rivalry with Patton, the debacle of Market Garden (in part caused by his rivalry with Patton), and his death as a curmudgeonly old bastard in a big house with opinions about everything, he has gone down in history as exactly that – a curmudgeon.

To complete the triumvirate, George Smith Patton, Jr. led a rocky life when it comes to his own reputation – so his legacy is mixed as well. He is known as one of the greatest generals America has ever had; so skilled that Ike couldn’t keep him sidelined. After Tunisia and Sicily he was probably known as a great general… But then he slapped two soldiers and shouted at them for having shell shock, and later classification shell shock as PTSD has most certainly made an already shitty incident look worse. This caused him to be sidelined for a year before the Normandy invasion; and the subsequent feuds with Monty don’t look good either. The difference there is that Monty seemed to be worse than him, exacerbated by the failure of Market Garden. After D-Day, Patton’s third army was practically unstoppable (when logistics crisis don’t stop it). Patton’s death just after the war stopped everything he may have done in its tracks.

Patton is known now as an excellent, if egotistical and short-tempered man; good at morale and keeping the men moving forward. His death stopped any post war interference with his legacy in its tracks. We cannot say what he might’ve done after the war simply because he didn’t live to see much of it. Thus, his legacy has been preserved; if changed a bit due to public perception turning to myth or misconception, just as Rommel’s, Montgomery’s, and Kennedy’s legacies have undergone the same.


“The things you gave me were
The things I needed most but dreaded more
I wonder why you dared
To show me what I’m longing longing for

Now you’ve torn down my walls
The walls built to protect me against this
You pushed me now I fall
The strongest man can be slain by a kiss
You trespassed on my frontiers
I felt this time I would not be deceived”

“You took away my fears
I opened up once more just to see you leave

Demon love
You make me despise myself
Degrade myself
Have mercy
Pass me by

I wrote love-letters on
Your skin they still burn on my fingertips
And even now you’re gone
Your taste it still remains upon my lips
How could you be so mean
Your touch showed me a glimpse of paradise
You linger in my dreams
I still can feel you when I close my eyes”

ASP- Demon Love

late contribution for Diopucci week day 3

Friendly reminder that our ship has crossed realms for each other, gone to the end of time for each other, given up their home for each other, torn down walls for each other, fought off darkness for each other, died MULTIPLE TIMES for each other, AND GONE TO LITERAL HELL AND BACK FOR EACH OTHER. Fam we have nothing to worry about. We never have. Our ship is as solid built and steady as the Jolly Roger herself.


Just a quick drabble, inspired by the new pics. There might be a part 2.

For @thenedfur

Jon should have seen it coming from the moment Sansa leapt into his arms at Castle Black. They’ve taken their home back now and they spend most of their waking hours together. They talk and laugh, they argue and shout at one another and he’s never felt more alive.

He holds her and kisses her temple when she wakes up screaming during the night, haunted by her monsters. She soothes him and brushes his damp hair from his brow when he imagines he’s slipping back into the abyss.

One night they cross the line and he knows there’s no going back. A sudden encounter of skin on skin, a whisper of hot breath behind an ear and suddenly his lips are tasting her mouth, and they inevitably move on to every other inch of her skin.

Their bodies meld together as if they were made for each other. He pours his love and devotion into every kiss, touch and stroke and he finally feels home again. He never expected to find it in his sister’s arms, but he should have seen from the start this was the inescapable destination of the path he chose.

When he’s lying next to her after, head pillowed on her breasts, and shared bliss has momentarily torn down all the walls they’ve built, whispered declarations and promises are made. 

In the cold grey light of dawn the guilt catches up with him. He doesn’t need to go in person, but he decides it’s for the best now. 

When he informs her, she tries to be cold, but things quickly start heating up and before he knows, it’s happening again and they pretend he’ll never have to leave.

When he slips from her furs under the cover of darkness, he convinces himself he has no other choice. 

He says goodbye to her on the gallery surrounding the courtyard.  “You promised to protect me,” she accuses him. 

No one can protect you, me least of all. “I am,” he assures her. He can see how close she comes to rolling her eyes at him. 

He reminds her to take moon tea. She doesn’t respond.

“Someone has to go,” he tries again. 

“It shouldn’t be you.” 

Her tone makes him cringe, but he knows she’s hurt.  “It’s our best chance.”

She agrees, she’s told him so before, but she won’t admit that now. 

I’ll miss you. “I’ll be back soon, I prom-”

“Don’t!” she warns him, fire in her eyes. “I can’t allow myself to hope.”

There’s so much more he would like to say, but he’ll never be able to find the words, so he simply kisses her forehead and hopes she knows.

When he’s mounted his horse, he twists around in the saddle one last time, lifting his arm in a cautious wave. Her face is set in a stony mask when he offers her a wary smile and next to her Littlefinger is leaning against the railing, a smirk on his lips.

He turns away and sighs, his heart already aching for the home he’s about to leave.

anonymous asked:

I know Dean doesn't often say I love you to anybody and I was observing how much he said it? I can't remember, i obviously remember that he said it his mom but not the rest. + does Sam say it more often and if yes does that mean anything?

Dean has only every said it to his mom (heaven + 12x22) and Sam has also said it to Dean in s10 and I believe off the top of my head he said it to young John, that he hated him but loved him, in a mirror of 12x22.

I personally would love for Dean to tell Sam that he loves him now that he’s torn down the walls in 12x22, then tells Cas afterwards of course later on where it’s relevant .

It would fit nicely for me that he says it to Sam first though :)

anonymous asked:

Write a one shot in which Nico shows Will his soft, loving side.

oh yesss! (Idk why put i can’t add any tags to my responses anymore, so please #solangelo if you reblog!!)

It really shouldn’t bother Will, he knew that. Nico was never a very affectionate person to begin with. And all of this was so new to him- affection, talking, boys.

He cared. Will knew he did. He saw it the protective stance he would set into wherever they walked. In the strength of his grip when they held hands. In the attempts he made to have a conversation with Cecil and Lou Ellen. In the way his eyes followed him as Will walked to and fro around the infirmary.

And maybe it was wrong, but he wanted more. Not in a sexual way. Not at all. He just wanted more than a firm hand hold or a peck on the cheek. He wanted a real kiss. But the last time he’d tried to get that to happen, Nico hadn’t even let their lips touch before he was turning away and making an excuse to go to bed. He wanted to hold Nico or be held by him. He wanted warmth and little habits like Percy and Annabeth did. Or Piper and Jason.

Those little moments you didn’t really notice because you were so use to it; pushing a strand of hair away, leaning a head on their shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into their shoulder when an arm was placed around them, a hand placed lazily on their arm or leg, a pinch at their cheek, or something.

It was so formal and stiff whenever Nico was with him, that sometimes he worried Nico didn’t like him and he’d simply pushed for too long that the only way Nico could shut him up was by asking him out.

No. That was a lie. Nico didn’t do it to shut him up. That much was evident in the memory of how red his face had gotten, how he fidgeted with his hands and stumbled over words, flustered and nervous.

“Hey what’s up with you?” Lou Ellen asked as they finished up inspection. “You have your thinking face on.”

Will chuckled. “Just thinking. About Nico.” He shrugged. “I just… I don’t know.”

Lou Ellen stopped walking and looked at him, fixing him to his spot with an intense gaze that seemed to look through him rather than at him. Then she blinked and her eyebrows went up. “You think he doesn’t like you? He doesn’t give you enough attention?”

Will scowled. “That’s such an invasion of privacy, Lou.” He hated when she used her magic on him. “But… yeah. I mean, we haven’t even really kissed, you know? I feel like he’s not comfortable.”

“Well, I could try to read him if you want?” Will shook his head. Nico’s head had been messed with enough. And whatever painful memories or feelings he still hid could hurt Lou Ellen. Besides, they weren’t for her to poke at. “So why don’t you just ask him? He’s a straightforward guy. Be straightforward with him.”

Will grimaced but continued to think.

Later, when everyone was leaving the campfire, Nico was waiting on Will to finish putting out the fire before walking back to their cabins.

As they walked, Nico tugged on his hand. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

The moonlight seemed to reflect of his black hair, shining silver. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Will answered, giving him a smile. He began to walk but Nico tugged him back. “What?”

“If there’s one thing I’m really good at, it’s reading your body language. And you’re not fine.” He raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly and Wil sighed.

He only had Nico to lose if he asked. The idea of it made him queasy. “Nico, do you like me?”

Nico’s eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Of course I do.”

“Well, I mean, are you comfortable with me? Like… dating me.”

“Why are you asking me that?” Nico questioned. Will noticed he hadn’t answered.

He shrugged and kicked at the ground. “I just don’t know if you really feel okay with it. I mean it’s been a while, and I know you’re a lot better at interacting with people than before, but…. I mean did I push too fast? Were you even ready to date someone?”

“What makes you think I’m not okay with it?” he asked, again not answering the question.

Will felt his cheeks grow hot and took a breath. “We’ve been dating for almost six months now, Neeks. And we haven’t even kissed. Like a real kiss.” Nico blushed then and looked away. “All we do is hold hands really. Even when the fireworks show, we don’t seem like a couple like the others. We just sort of look like friends. And I get that dating is new to you, but…. I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” Nico murmured. He brought a gentle hand up to Will’s chin to tilt his face towards him. “I do like you. A lot. And it’s still a little strange to me, the way this works. But I feel safe with you. I feel better.” He took a step closer. “I don’t know how to act like a boyfriend. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be the- what does Piper call it?- the big spoon or the little spoon. I’m scared to make you upset by doing the wrong thing. I’m scared of getting too attached.” He cleared his throat and bit his lip. “And… I haven’t kissed you because I don’t know how.” He turned bright red and chuckled. “I’m sixteen and I have no idea how kisses work. I’m scared I won’t be good at it. I’m scared of embarrassing myself with you.”

Will couldn’t help but smile. While he chewed away at his own doubts, Nico had a complete set of his own. He couldn’t help himself. He laughed and threw his arms around Nico to pull him into a hug. He heard Nico’s huff of surprise and then after a moment, hesitant arms that wrapped around him.

Will pulled his head back, his hands stroking Nico’s face. It was so new, and Will could see it in his eyes, ablaze with shock as he processed the new ways he could be touched or held. His eyes closed lazily and he pressed against Will’s hands, a small smile spreading on his lips.

“Stay still,” Will whispered. Nico’s eyes shot open and he froze. “It’s okay,” Will assured.

He leaned in very slowly, so that if Nico wanted, he could still back away. But he didn’t. He stayed still, his chocolate brown eyes flitting from Will’s lips to his eyes. And then, finally, their lips met. Nico’s were cold and soft, plump and gentle. It was simple enough. Just a bit of pressure against his lips. Then Will’s lips parted and Nico’s followed. Nico’s hands wrapped themselves tighter around Will. One hand came to rest behind his neck, pulling him closer.

And suddenly, it wasn’t so simple. It was intense and beautiful and dizzying- the taste of his lips, the texture of his tongue, the gentle grazes from his teeth. Will forgot where he was, even who he was. He only knew that he was finally kissing Nico.

And Nico was lost in his own bliss. A new feeling grew in his chest, something he’d locked away and refused himself a long time ago. It was a bright, warm feeling, enveloping him completely. His shoulder throbbed gently in the spot where a few years ago, one of Cupid’s arrows had pierce his skin. He’d almost forgotten the pale red heart shaped mark on his shoulder.

Words came up in his throat, dying to be spoken, to express the swell of emotions he felt for this wonderful, happy, loving guy that had torn down all of his walls. But to speak them meant to break the kiss, and Nico didn’t want to do that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so overwhelmingly happy.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded, breaking them apart. “Whoa,” Nico breathed, as the earth swayed below him.

“Harpies,” Will said. “We have to go.”

But Nico didn’t loosen his grip around him. He gave Will a mischievous smile and suddenly they were enveloped in shadows, the night sky and the trees and the dirt floor falling away. When the shadows cleared, they were in Nico’s cabin.

Nico smiled at him and leaned forward, brushing his nose against Will’s, his lips hovering over his cheek down to Will’s lips. “Don’t go yet,” he whispered.

And Will, weak in the knees, let Nico tug him toward his bed where they lay facing each other. Nico’s fingers traced over Will’s facial features lightly, over his collarbone, and then intertwined into his hand. “Your eyes are mesmerizing,” he said softly. “And the freckles on your face. I love your eyelashes, and how they glint in the sun. And my gods, I love your kisses.” He leaned forward and kissed him, making Will laugh and blush.

When he pulled away, Will let his hand roam over his arm where jagged pale lines ran down haphazardly. Nico followed his gaze and took his hand. That was a long time ago. “I want to be the little spoon,” Will said, curling into Nico.

Nico draped an arm over him and chuckled, a low, husky sound. “Okay,” he whispered. He began to hum lazily and Will could feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier until he was asleep.

Who We Are

Summary: When Mary stood there with her gun pointed at him, Arthur saw his end coming. Though he didn’t expect the way it did end for him.

Words: 1421

Characters: Arthur Ketch (mainly), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Originally posted by oriley42

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak(pretty much)

A/N: This is my way of Ketch’s “end” where he doesn’t get killed but I won’t give away too much yet. Enjoy and buckle up for this ride of emotions.

The blood was boiling hot in Arthur. He knew they had Mary. He knew he shouldn’t have let her go on her own. She might have been one of the best hunters he had ever met, one of the best partners he ever worked with but she was not trained enough to take on multiple hunters.

Maybe they underestimated the American hunters. But that wasn’t even what had him furious the most. It was the fact that bloody Dean Winchester had him as well as Toni and after what he had done, he wasn’t sure what Toni would do to help them.

And he couldn’t risk losing Mary when she just started to be like him. When she just started to really be with him.

“Ketch, wait… don’t!” He heard Toni say when he pulled his knife after entering the bunker. She had them attached to a machine and Arthur knew too well what would happen if he didn’t step in right away. He couldn’t let that happen.

He couldn’t risk her turning against him. Before Toni could do anything, Arthur slit her throat, not caring about the way she struggled as he hurried over to the machine and turned it off. Dean slowly came back to his senses when Arthur ripped his cords away from him. Arthur would do anything in his power to keep Mary from going back to her sons. She belonged to him now.

Keep reading


this is the most artsy-fartsy thing I’ve ever written. I’m mad at myself for writing this. 

In an effort to diversify my writing style, this is written from Connor Murphy’s point of view. 

Word Count: 875

Warnings: physical romance, breakup/ missing a significant other

IN which Connor Murphy misses his (ex)girlfriend.

I miss her. I knitted my character into hers. We shared secrets that I will never share again. We sat on her bed and I complimented all her art work. She pulled out piece after piece of her water colored papers and quickly written poetry. She laughed and blushed and didn’t know how to accept my compliments. I tacked her pages to the wall. She took them down immediately. She was embarrassed of my deep affection. I loved her in a way I cannot describe. As something more than a friend and even more than a lover. We were two pieces of one soul. She was everything I was not and I was everything she was not. We were different… so different that she demanded to be apart forever. She meant everything to me and I know that’s so bad. I shouldn’t let a single person define the world for me… But I do miss it when she did.

I miss it when she used to take my hand and bring me closer to her. She always wanted to be close to me when we talked, as if everything she said to me was extremely important. She’d look me in the eyes… no one ever looked me in the eyes but she did… And when she looked me in the eyes she’d tell me that she wanted me to be okay.

“I want you to be okay, Connor. You don’t have to be fantastic… just try being okay. For me?” She’d whisper to me.

“I’m okay because you’re here,” I’d whisper back. My hands used to settle on her hips, the forgiving fabric of her t-shirt soft against my weathered hands.

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be,” She’d reply. Her words would barely be audible, but I could hear it. I always heard everything she said. Everything she said was like honey to me. It was rich and pure and of the deepest contrast to me.

Her eyes used to grow sad when looking at me. I knew it was out of pity. She felt so damn sorry for me all the time. I’m glad she doesn’t have to be so sad for me all the time now. I remember sometimes she would sneak into my room at night and crawl into bed besides me. I’d hold her closely and we wouldn’t talk for a long while. I would run my fingers through her hair and feel her tears on my bare arm.

“I’m so sorry that they don’t understand, Connor. I’m so sorry…” She’d say to me. Her words were kind and easy to hear. She’d always apologize for the things I was going through, forever feeling like it was her fault that I had a shitty life. It wasn’t her fault. It was her that made me forget about my terrible life.

“Not everyone has to understand,” I’d reply to her. Sometimes she’d kiss me then, her hands finding their place in my hair. Her lips searching for something good in me. My hands would be on her back, unable to pull her any closer because she had already closed the gap between us. And we’d close our eyes and the world would be quiet. All that was left was her. Her underneath me. Her fingers digging into my shoulders. She was poetry to me. Our bodies creating perfect thoughts that people would admire if written out on a page. Her touch was like black ink sinking into my soul and conjuring up the deepest of catharsis. And she would look up at me, her mouth open like I had given her the perfect ending to her prose.

But every poem has its end. And every poet eventually stops writing. I couldn’t blame her for growing away from me. I do the very same thing to myself when the weather in my head gets stormy.

“I promise I’ll always write about you. I can’t escape the way you make me feel… and we all know that the only way poets feel is through their pens on paper,” She told me one afternoon. I was so pissed that I could have torn down a wall with my bare hands. I didn’t understand why she would want to leave me. And now I know that she didn’t understand why she wanted to leave me either. It was something we did, I guess. We wrote poetry and then destroyed it.

This morning she sent me a letter in the mail, telling me that she’s coming back to town. My heart stirred as I read her letter because I couldn’t wait to see her again. She wrote a poem at the bottom of her letter, decorating it with blue watercolored raindrops. The poem read:

The oceans crash, just like our love.

The evening fades just like your touch.

And I am trying to figure out what you have done

To make me leave, along with the sun

It is me who sent myself away, I know this is true

With everyone else that is what I do

But what have I done to make this cease?

After all, it is was not I but you who was in love with a beast

anonymous asked:

What about a poem for the paintress?~ -🚬

I want you to touch me
The way you would paint me,
I’ve only ever been a canvas for lipstick stains,
Color palettes depict love in the most abstract ways, and now I’m being torn down the wall-
I want you to paint me
I just do not know how to tell you.

Five Signs

The first sign…

Jack’s first little sign to the fact that he may like not only girls, but guys as well, was the lingering gazes.

They still occurred around girls, because he wasn’t the type to not admire an attractive woman when he saw one. But there was lingering gazes on people of the same gender as him. The same type of gaze he had used for so many years prior when he was aiming to pull for the night.

Now though, suddenly, he was using it on guys.

The first couple of times it happened, he brushed it off. Blaming the drinks.

Until it happened when he was completely and utterly sober.

For a while, Jack was confused.

The second sign…

Really, this one should have been obvious to him.

Because he was used to that warm feeling left behind from the contact of skin from someone he was attracted to. He had experienced that many a times.

The touches that left him yearning more, the moments where his cheeks would grow warm with a flush because the other had complimented him.

And when it began to happen with other men, only a few, just in the darkness of the club, Jack started to wonder.

Maybe, maybe he didn’t like just women.

He couldn’t deny the thrill he got when another man ran their eyes up and down his body, or the feeling of fire left on his skin as fingers were dragged across his skin.

There was one catch: The person making him feel that way.

The third sign…

At this point, it had been months since the first sign, and Jack had had many a sleepless nights where he had tossed and turned, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what they meant.

Was he attracted to both guys and girls?

He thought back to all the other moments in his life, and realized that he had always admired both genders, just never thought much of it. Not until he walked into his life.

When he did come into his life, it was like he had torn down the wall Jack had built up around that part of himself, and perhaps, Jack wanted to leave that wall torn down.

So, after losing too much sleep, he came to accept that yes, he was bisexual.

And the moment he accepted it, the thought sat comfortably in him, and he had laughed into the darkness of his room, feeling free.

But then, the third sign hit him.

About a month had passed since he had accepted his new sexuality, although he still kept it to himself, unsure of how to go about suddenly telling people.

Yet throughout that month, Jack realized something.

Or, someone. Because that someone was constantly on his thoughts. And if he was honest, that someone had been on his thoughts for a lot longer than just the past month. He just hadn’t been aware of it before.

Now that he was though, Jack felt awkward around that someone.

He didn’t want to ruin the strong friendship they had built up, but he also didn’t quite understand what was going on.

Everything was still so new and foreign to him. Even before, with women, Jack had never been like this.

Not with anyone.

So why was this someone different? What made him different?

The fourth sign…

When Jack woke from his dream, the name falling from his lips in a moan, he knew.

There was no denying it.

He had a crush on Joe Sugg.

Which meant that everything changed even more drastically.

Jack didn’t know how to act around Joe anymore. He tried to act normal, act as if nothing had changed, but he wasn’t able too.

Because every time Joe touched him, his skin lit on fire. The little comments Joe would send his way caused him to grow flustered and his cheeks would burn. Jack was actively aware of when he started to stare at Joe, and would have to tear his gaze away, before he got noticed.

Whenever Joe smiled or laughed, Jack could feel his entire world grow lighter, simply by seeing the other man be so happy and carefree.

But at the same time, Jack grew shy around Joe, because he worried that his feelings may be accidentally revealed or discovered.

That was something that couldn’t happen.

The fifth sign…

Perhaps, if Jack hadn’t been so caught up in his thoughts and worry, he would have caught on to this sign a lot sooner.

But he had been caught up.

In discovering himself, who he was, what he was. And then in discovering his new found feelings. In finding out how his body reacted differently when around Joe.

All this had been swirling around in his head, along with worrying about not getting caught, because he couldn’t scare away Joe, Jack refused to let the man out of his life.

Jack had been too distracted to realize the most important sign.

And it wasn’t until Joe had him backed up against the wall, their fingers brushing together, the laughter from their mates carrying from the room next to them, that Jack saw the final sign.

The one that told him he had completely and utterly fallen for Joe.

It simply took Joe pressing his lips against Jack’s for the younger man to see it.